The Brownie Scouts
at Snow Valley

She held a golden locket on a chain.
“Brownie Scouts at Snow Valley”
(See page [188])

The Brownie Scouts
at Snow Valley

by
Mildred A. Wirt

Illustrated

CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
Publishers New York

Copyright, 1949, by
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY

All Rights Reserved

THE BROWNIE SCOUTS AT SNOW VALLEY

Printed in the United States of America

To
MRS. ELEANOR T. GIBSON
Executive Director of the Toledo Girl Scouts in appreciation of her helpfulness and cooperation.

Contents

CHAPTER 1
A Runaway Sled

SIX little Brownie Scouts, busily pasting scrapbooks in Connie Williams’ living room, perked up their ears to listen.

“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!”

Again came that firm, quick tapping on the window pane.

Through the cold, frosted glass, a little girl in scarlet snowsuit peered in at the Brownies, seated cross-legged in a semi-circle on the rug.

Her freckled pug nose made a tiny smudge as she pressed it hard against the pane, trying to see what went on in the room.

“Why, it’s Veve McGuire!” said Connie, scrambling to her feet.

“Let’s not pay any attention to her.” This advice came from Jane Tuttle, another member of the Rosedale Brownie Troop. With a toss of her long, yellow pigtails, she went on snipping papers. “Veve’s just trying to act silly because she isn’t a Brownie.”

Veve McGuire lived next door to Connie. That fall when Miss Jean Gordon, the fourth grade teacher at Rosedale School, had organized the Brownies, the little girl had been invited to join.

But Veve had tossed her dark curls and said she didn’t think she wanted to be a Brownie.

“Who wants to belong to any old troop?” she had scoffed. “What do Brownies do anyway, except have meetings?”

“Brownies have loads of fun,” the other girls had told her. “They go to camp, they help at home, they plan entertainments—”

Veve hadn’t listened. Even when the six girls bought their new uniforms of pinchecked brown gingham, each with a cocky felt beanie cap, she had pretended she wasn’t a bit interested. But now that the Brownies were so busy with their work and plans, she really missed her playmates.

Connie, who very much wanted Veve to be a Brownie Scout, knew all this. So while the other girls paid no heed to Veve, she went to the window.

“Come on out and play!” Veve shouted. “I’m going to make a big snowman. I’ll let you all help me!”

Now it had snowed nearly all day, the first real storm of December. Little feathery drifts had blown against the Williams’ white shingle house.

During the last hour, the wind had died. Water dripped steadily from the roof, for the weather had turned warmer. The snow, though melting fast, was just soft enough to roll.

“Come on out!” Veve shouted again, waving a red mitten.

Connie shook her head. She had to turn her back on Veve’s disappointed face, for just then Miss Gordon, the troop leader, came into the living room from the kitchen.

“Well, girls,” she said, “shall we pick up our scrap papers and call it an afternoon? I think we’ve made wonderful progress.”

The six Brownies, Connie, Jane, Rosemary Fritche, Eileen Webber, Belinda Matthews and “Sunny” Davidson, had been pasting scrapbooks for patients at Rosedale Hospital. Three of the books already were finished.

Forgetting about Veve, the girls cleaned up the scraps from the rug. When the room was tidy, they sang their Brownie song:

“We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim: Lend a hand and play the game!”

Then as the girls started to leave, they told Connie how very much they had enjoyed themselves at her home.

“The chocolate and cookies were awfully good,” said Jane, wriggling into her heavy snowsuit. “Will you all meet at my house next week?”

Before anyone could answer, Miss Gordon spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she said, “I nearly forgot! Let’s not plan our next meeting just yet.”

“Not plan another meeting?” Connie echoed, a puzzled look in her deep blue eyes.

“I may have a surprise for you,” Miss Gordon hinted mysteriously. “No, don’t ask me about it just yet. I can’t tell you any more now.”

She broke off and laughed in her delightful way, which made the Brownies more curious than ever. The hall buzzed with excited talk as the girls put on their galoshes and woolen mittens. What could Miss Gordon’s “surprise” be?

“Give us a tiny hint,” they pleaded.

“Can’t,” laughed their leader. “Not until after I’ve talked to your parents. You may hear all about it at our next meeting.”

“And when will that be?” Jane inquired anxiously, for she had asked to be the next hostess.

“I’ll telephone you in plenty of time,” Miss Gordon promised.

Out in the Williams’ front yard, Veve had started to roll a huge snowball. She hadn’t known it was the regular time for the Brownie meeting to break up, and thought the girls meant to play with her.

“Come and help me push!” she shouted. “I want to make this snowball as big as a mountain!”

Belinda Matthews and Rosemary Fritche only smiled at her as they ambled down the walk arm-in-arm. Next, Eileen Webber and Jane Tuttle came out of the house, and they barely noticed Veve or her snowball.

Connie, who stood in the doorway saying goodbye to Sunny and Miss Gordon, saw that Veve was very disappointed. The little girl looked as if she might cry. Miss Gordon noticed it too.

“What wonderful snow for rolling!” the Brownie Scout leader remarked.

“Let’s help Veve!” proposed Connie. Usually known as “sober face,” she was now very gay as she dived into the cloak closet for her snowsuit and galoshes. “Can you stay awhile and play, Sunny?”

“I’ll call my mother,” Sunny offered.

Reached by telephone, Mrs. Davidson said that her daughter might remain until five o’clock. Sunny struggled into her zippered white woolen snowsuit and the two girls went outdoors together.

Veve tried not to show how glad she was to see them. “Let’s push this snowball down the driveway,” she urged.

The big ball went “crunch, crunch,” as the three girls rolled it over and over. From the driveway it picked up bits of gravel and rock.

“Isn’t it large enough now for a snowman?” asked Sunny as she became breathless from pushing.

Veve walked around the huge ball to see how large it had grown.

“Yes, it will do,” she decided. “This ball is for the snowman’s feet. We will make the next one larger. That will be for his stomach.”

The three girls stood the snowball on its flat end in the front yard. Then they started another which grew and grew as it rolled over the ground.

“Veve,” Connie asked suddenly, “why don’t you join our Brownie troop?”

In the act of lifting up a hard-packed snowball, Veve nearly let it tumble through her mittens.

“Oh, Brownies!” she teased. “They stay all afternoon in the house and make scrapbooks! I’d rather play outdoors!”

“Brownies don’t stay inside all the time!” Sunny said hotly. “You have it all wrong. Our troop is wonderful!”

Veve tried to change the subject. “Our snowman needs a face. I’ll get some coal for his eyes and nose.”

On the driveway of the McGuire home next door stood a red coal delivery truck. A strong looking man with a very dirty face was shoveling coal into the basement.

“Hello, mister,” said Veve, who never was afraid of strangers. “May I have some little pieces of coal for my snowman?”

“Help yourself, Sister,” replied the man. He kept right on unloading the coal.

“My name isn’t Sister,” said Veve politely. “It is Veve McGuire. This is our coal too.”

The little girl picked up several small pieces which had tumbled from the rear of the truck. However, they were not the size she needed. Veve saw better pieces over by the chute, but was afraid to try to get them. The coalman was shoveling so fast she knew she might be struck.

“Please, can’t you wait a minute?” she asked.

“All right,” agreed the coalman, resting on his shovel. “Pick up what you want.”

Veve darted in and gathered up several pieces. As soon as she had jumped out of the way, the coalman went on with his work again.

Veve stood watching him a moment.

“My, but you are a strong man,” she said admiringly. “Do you know what I would do if I had large muscles like yours?”

“No,” replied the man. “I suppose you would be a coalwoman.”

Veve laughed because she knew the man was teasing her. “I wouldn’t like to get as dirty as you are,” she said.

“I don’t like coal dust either,” returned the man, “but it can’t be helped. Well, what would you do?”

“If I were strong, I would make the largest snowman in the whole world!”

The coalman laughed as he went on with his shoveling.

“I am too busy to make snowmen,” he said. “I have a wife and four children to feed and clothe.”

Veve very much would have liked to talk longer with the coalman, but she knew the girls were waiting for her.

So, taking the pieces of coal, she ran back to the Williams’ yard.

“Why, Veve, you’re all covered with dirt!” exclaimed Connie, noticing a streak on the little girl’s face.

“I don’t care,” laughed Veve. “You should see the coalman. He’s a lot worse than I am!”

The girls used the pieces of coal to mark the snowman’s eyes, nose and mouth. Connie made a long row of black buttons down the front of the fat figure.

“That’s his coat,” she declared. “Now he’s finished!”

“Not yet,” insisted Veve. “He should have a hat and a pipe. Then he’ll look like a real man.”

“Where can we get them?” asked Sunny, stepping back to admire the snowman.

Connie knew that her father had a tall black silk hat which he never used, and she remembered a green plastic bubble pipe in the kitchen drawer.

“I’ll ask mother if we may use them,” she offered, and ran into the house.

Mrs. Williams gave her the bubble pipe, but hesitated when Connie asked if she might also have the black silk hat.

“Your father hasn’t used that hat in years, so I suppose he won’t mind,” she said, after thinking the matter over for a moment. “You’ll find it in the attic.”

Connie climbed the stairs to the cobwebby room under the roof. The place was cluttered with trunks, boxes, and old pieces of furniture. Everything was very dusty.

Opening one trunk after another, Connie finally found the tall black silk hat which had been wrapped in tissue paper. With the bubble pipe, she carried it to the yard.

“Just what we need!” cried Veve in delight.

She thrust the hat jauntily on the snowman’s head and the pipestem deep into his mouth. The girls laughed aloud, for the figure now looked very funny.

“Doesn’t he look grand!” exclaimed Connie. “Almost like Daddy!”

Unable to think of another way to improve the snowman, the girls sat down on the porch steps. Connie and Sunny began to talk about the Brownie meeting and to speculate on Miss Gordon’s promised “surprise.”

Again Veve deliberately changed the subject.

“It’s getting warmer,” she said. “Our snowman won’t last very long, I’m afraid.”

“He’s wilting already,” agreed Sunny. “Oh, don’t you wish the snow would never melt?”

“It always goes away real fast here,” sighed Connie. “We never have half enough ice skating or coasting.”

“Say, why don’t we go coasting right now?” Veve proposed eagerly. “Klingman’s Hill!”

“All right, let’s ask our mothers,” Connie agreed, falling in with the plan.

“It’s nearly five o’clock,” Sunny said regretfully. “I’ll have to run along. Remember, Connie, until our next Brownie meeting—DYB.”

She winked at Connie as she spoke the mysterious letters.

“What does DYB mean?” Veve demanded.

“Oh, it’s a Brownie secret,” laughed Sunny as she started off down the street. “Our troop has lots and lots of them!”

Now Klingman’s Hill was three blocks from the Williams’ home. The road had been roped off to keep automobiles from using it. Usually a policeman was on hand to see that the children did not get hurt.

After Connie obtained permission from her mother, the two girls started for the hill.

“Tell me what DYB means,” Veve coaxed.

“Can’t, Veve. It’s a Brownie secret, and Brownies never tell. Now if you were a member—”

“But I’m not,” said Veve a trifle crossly.

By this time the girls were quite close to Klingman’s Hill. They could see that the coasting place was nearly deserted. Much of the snow had melted, leaving ugly bare spots on the hill. Only a few boys and girls stood around looking very gloomy.

“Oh, Veve, no one is coasting!” cried Connie in disappointment. “We won’t be able to slide after all.”

“The snow always melts before we have a chance to coast,” grumbled Veve. “I’m getting sick of it.”

“So am I, Veve. But Miss Gordon says Brownies must learn to take disappointments.”

Veve frowned, for she disliked the advice. “All I ask is a little cold winter weather,” she mumbled.

Dragging their sleds, the two girls walked to the brow of the hill. Everywhere they could see patches of bare earth on the slope. Water trickled in the roadside ditches.

“Can’t coast here,” said a boy who stood near. “But there’s snow left on Kelly’s Hill. Most of the kids have gone there. That’s where I’m heading.” He started away with his sled.

Veve seized Connie’s hand. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go too.”

“But Kelly’s Hill isn’t roped off. Only the older boys coast there.”

“Who’s afraid?” scoffed Veve. “I want to use my sled at least once this winter.”

“Do you think the hill is safe?” Connie was troubled. While her mother had not forbidden her to go to the other coasting area, she wondered if she should. A Brownie, Miss Gordon had said, always was trustworthy and responsible.

“We can be careful,” Veve said. She started away.

“Wait!” called Connie.

Veve was a year younger than she, and inclined to act hastily. She could not let her friend go alone.

Now Kelly’s Hill was several blocks farther on at the south edge of Rosedale. The slope was very steep, with railroad tracks crossing it near the bottom.

A dirt road wound over the hill too. Automobiles passed now and then, so for that reason the coasting place was considered unsafe.

However, when Connie and Veve reached the steep hill they found plenty of snow. The run looked very fast. Many boys and a few girls were coasting.

Connie, who was worried because of the railroad tracks, said quietly: “Veve, I don’t think we should coast here.”

“So Brownies are afraid!” jeered her friend. “Well, I’m not.”

All the same, she did not start down the hill right away. Instead, she removed her mittens and blew breath on her fingers.

“It’s cold here,” she said, stamping one foot and then another.

Connie laughed, for the air was not in the least chilly. She knew Veve was afraid of the hill. But she did not say so, for she hoped her friend would decide not to coast.

Just then, a group of older boys came along with their sleds. One of them knew Veve and tried to tease her.

“This hill isn’t for girls! Too steep!”

The remark annoyed Veve. Forgetting to be afraid, she climbed on her sled and took the rope in her hands.

Before she was ready to start, the older boy gave her a hard push. Down the hill shot the sled, moving faster and faster.

Wind whizzed in Veve’s face. She couldn’t see. The sled went so fast it was hard to steer.

“Oh! Oh!” she squealed.

Another sled loomed up. Veve pushed hard on the steering lever with her foot. The sled skidded sharply to the right and she couldn’t straighten it out. The next moment she was lying in a ditch with the sled on top of her.

Slowly she picked herself up and brushed wet snow from her suit. Connie ran down the hill to ask anxiously:

“Are you hurt, Veve?”

“Of course not! But look at my clothes. They’re all wet. I don’t like this hill.”

“Let’s go home.”

“All right,” Veve agreed. “It’s not as much fun here as I thought it would be.”

As the girls trudged slowly up the slope, a car overtook them. Several of the older boys ran after it, hooking the ropes of their sleds over the rear bumpers. They rode to the top of the hill and then jumped off.

“Say, that’s an easy way to get up without walking,” laughed Veve.

“I shouldn’t try it,” cautioned Connie. “Those boys might get hurt.”

She knew they were being most unwise to risk hooking their sleds onto the car bumpers. If the automobile should speed up, they easily might be carried away.

Midway up the hill, Veve suddenly halted.

“See what’s coming!” she shouted. “A runaway sled!”

“Jeepers!” Connie exclaimed. “It looks like mine!” Before starting down the hill she had tied her sled to a tree. Now she saw that someone had untied it for a joke.

The two girls tried to stop the sled, but were not quick enough. It glided past them into a ditch far down the hill. Of course they had to go after it.

“What a mean trick!” exclaimed Veve. “I’m ready to go home! Only I hate to climb all the way up this old mountain.”

Nearby stood a parked automobile. The driver sat behind the steering wheel with the engine running. However, he appeared to be waiting for someone and did not act as if he intended to start up the hill.

“Connie, I’ll show you how the boys hook onto the car bumpers,” Veve offered.

Before her friend could stop her, she darted to the parked car. The driver did not see her, for he was gazing in another direction.

“Just slip the rope over the bumper like this,” explained Veve. “It’s easy, Connie.”

Now Veve had no intention of riding up the hill. She only liked to think she could do anything the older boys did. Never once did it occur to her that the automobile might start suddenly forward.

Therefore, she was startled when, without warning, the motor speeded up. Smoke poured from the exhaust pipe at the rear. The car began to move slowly ahead.

“Oh, he’s driving off with your sled!” Connie cried in alarm.

“Hey, wait!” shouted Veve, running after the car.

The driver did not hear.

Connie and Veve soon caught up, for the car climbed the hill slowly. But instead of unhooking the rope, Veve threw herself flat on the sled.

“Jump on!” she invited Connie.

Connie raced alongside, urging Veve to unhook the sled.

“Not yet,” the other girl laughed. “I’m riding to the top.”

The car began to move faster, although it was still climbing. Connie fell behind. She was very worried for her friend.

“Get off now, Veve!” she shouted.

The car reached the hilltop and went so fast Veve could not unfasten the sled rope.

Connie saw that her playmate might be carried away by the automobile. In a moment it would start downhill, and then Veve never could jump off without being hurt.

“Roll off!” she urged. “Roll off, quick!”

Veve did not want to lose her sled. She kept clinging to it, hoping the car would slow down. Instead, it picked up speed.

“Stop!” she shouted to the driver. “Stop the car!”

The man could not hear because the chains on the wheels were making a loud clanking noise.

“Help! Help!” screamed Veve, now thoroughly frightened.

The car whirled around a corner, with the girl clinging desperately to her sled.

CHAPTER 2
In Search of Veve

BY the time Connie reached the bend, Veve and the car were out of sight. For a minute she was so frightened she couldn’t think what to do.

Miss Gordon once had told the Brownies that whenever anything went wrong, the important thing was to remain very calm.

Connie felt anything but calm now. She was so excited she trembled all over. But she knew she had to think clearly or Veve might never be saved.

“I’ll call the police,” she thought.

At the next to last Brownie meeting, Miss Gordon had shown the girls how to dial police and fire department numbers in an emergency. Only Connie had no nickel and the nearest telephone was at the drugstore a block away.

Well, she had to do something quickly. Even if Veve were lucky enough not to be thrown from her sled, the driver was almost certain to take her far away without knowing it.

Dragging her sled, Connie ran all the way to the drugstore. The druggist was there, waiting on a customer who wanted a box of cough tablets.

“Please,” said Connie breathlessly, “will you lend me a nickel?”

The druggist looked so surprised she realized that the request must seem an odd one. So she added quickly:

“Veve was carried away on her sled by an automobile! I must call the police station.”

“The police station!” exclaimed the druggist.

He didn’t understand what Connie meant about Veve and the sled, but he could see from her worried look that something was wrong.

He gave her a nickel and showed her where the telephone booth was located.

“Can you dial the numbers yourself?” he asked.

Connie nodded. The telephone directory hung on a hook, and on the front cover in large print were the instructions:

“In case of Emergency Dial Police—Adams 1234.” The number was an easy one to remember.

A light flashed on as Connie stepped into the booth. She dropped the nickel into the coin box and waited for the clear dial tone. When she heard it, she carefully whirled the numbers.

Almost at once a gruff voice barked in her ear:

“Police station!”

Connie was a trifle nervous, for she never before had talked to anyone at the police station. However, she forced herself to speak slowly and relate exactly what had happened.

“Please come as fast as you can,” she urged. “Veve McGuire and I were coasting at Kelly’s Hill. She hooked a ride with her sled on an automobile—and was carried away.”

The police sergeant seemed to grasp the situation instantly. He barked: “Did you get the car license number?”

“No-o,” Connie admitted, trying hard to remember. “The first two letters were EB—the same as Edith Bailey’s initials. But I can’t remember the numbers. It was a large gray sedan.”

“Going what direction?”

“West.” Of this Connie was certain. “It was headed up the hill and went on toward the country.”

“Highway 20,” said the police sergeant, making notes on his pad. “The girl’s name is Veve McGuire. Address?”

“2179 Kingston Drive.”

“Right-o. And your name?”

Connie gave that too and then asked the sergeant if he thought Veve could be found. The officer promised to do his very best. He told her the information would be broadcast over the police shortwave radio system and picked up by all cruising police cars.

Connie hung up the telephone receiver and thanked the druggist for the nickel.

“I’ll pay it back tomorrow,” she promised. “Brownie Scout’s honor.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” he replied. “I only hope you find your little friend.”

Both he and the lady customer asked many questions about how Veve had been carried away on the sled.

Connie answered them all as fast as she could and then hurried away home to tell her mother and Mrs. McGuire what had occurred.

She was quite breathless by the time she burst into the kitchen where her mother was getting the evening meal.

“Why, Connie,” said Mrs. Williams in surprise. “Is anything wrong?”

“Veve’s been carried away in a car, Mother!”

Again Connie told about the coasting mishap.

“Oh, Connie!” exclaimed Mrs. Gordon in a frightened voice. “Does Mrs. McGuire know?”

“Not yet, Mother. I haven’t had time to tell her.”

“We must, at once. Though I’m afraid she still may be at work. Oh, dear!”

Veve’s father was dead, and the little girl’s mother worked part-time in a downtown office. During the afternoon Veve’s grandmother usually came in to stay with her, but on this Saturday no one had been at the McGuire home.

Connie had never seen her mother look more worried. She hastened to the telephone and, after making several calls, reached Mrs. McGuire. Next she called Connie’s father, asking him to pick up Mrs. McGuire at her office and bring her home.

“Will Veve be hurt, do you think?” Connie asked anxiously.

Mrs. Williams did not answer. She was in the front hallway putting on her hat and coat.

Ten minutes later Connie’s father drove up in the car. He had made a very fast trip home.

With him in the car was Mrs. McGuire, her hat at a rakish angle. She asked Connie to tell her exactly what had happened at the hill.

“Veve is so reckless,” she said when she heard the story. “Oh, I’m afraid she may be badly hurt.”

“Now don’t worry, Mrs. McGuire,” said Connie’s mother kindly. “Connie telephoned the police and already they are searching for the car. We’ll start out too.”

Connie could tell by the tone of her mother’s voice that she was proud of her for having called the police station so promptly.

“We’ll want you to go with us, Connie, because you may be able to recognize the car,” said her mother, motioning for her to get into the Williams’ automobile.

Connie rode in the front seat beside her father. At Kelly’s Hill she pointed out the bend in the road where she last had seen the gray sedan.

Driving quite slowly, Mr. Williams watched both sides of the road. He was afraid Veve might have been thrown from her sled into a snowy ditch.

For nearly an hour, the car went up one street and down another. Mr. Williams drove far out on Highway 20, stopping at two filling stations to ask the attendants if they had seen a little girl in a red snowsuit being pulled on her sled by a gray car. No one had.

Connie sat with her face pressed against the car window, watching and hoping. Twice she thought she saw the gray car. But always it proved to be a different automobile.

Soon it was so dark she scarcely could see the road. Lights winked on inside the houses. Mr. Williams had to turn on the car headlights.

“We may as well return home,” he said at last.

“By this time, the police may have found Veve,” said Connie’s mother. She spoke as cheerfully as she could because Mrs. McGuire looked as if she were about to cry.

“Let’s go back as quickly as we can,” agreed Mrs. McGuire.

Soon the car turned down the familiar, winding street, but Connie saw that the McGuire house was dark. Veve’s grandmother had not returned. Veve couldn’t be home either, or the lights would have been turned on.

When Mrs. McGuire looked at the dark windows, she began to cry. She couldn’t help it because she was so very worried. Connie’s mother held her arm as she helped her from the car.

“Now we’ll soon find Veve,” she reassured her. “Do come in while I telephone the police station. They may have news for us.”

Mrs. McGuire started with Mrs. Williams into the house. Connie intended to go with them, but as she cut across the yard past the half-melted snowman, she noticed a car coming slowly down the street.

At first she couldn’t even guess at its color because of the darkness.

However, the automobile looked very much like the one that had carried Veve away.

“Oh, Mother!” she cried. “See that car! I think it may be the one!”

Now Connie had made that very remark several times during the search for the gray sedan. Upon each occasion, she had been mistaken.

So, although her mother and Mrs. McGuire turned quickly to gaze down the street, they held little hope that she could be right.

Nearer and nearer came the automobile, passing directly under a bright street light.

“Oh, it is a gray sedan!” shouted Connie, fairly beside herself with excitement.

She tried to read the license number but could not make it out. The driver seemed to be alone in the car. He kept peering at the house numerals along the street.

“Mother,” cried Connie, “the car is slowing down!”

Even as she spoke, it stopped directly in front of the McGuire house.

“It’s the same car!” shouted Connie. “But where is Veve?”

CHAPTER 3
Safety Rules and Kitten Tails

THE door of the gray car swung open and out stepped the driver. As Connie, her parents, and Mrs. McGuire hurried up, he was peering at the numbers marked on the curb in front of the McGuire house.

“Aren’t you the man who carried away a little girl on her sled?” asked Connie before he could speak.

“That’s right,” admitted the driver. Politely, he tipped his hat to Connie’s mother and Mrs. McGuire.

“Tell me quickly,” urged Mrs. McGuire. “Has my daughter been injured?”

Just then, the rear door of the sedan swung wide. Veve, her face streaked with tears, had been asleep on the back seat. She stumbled out looking drowsy-eyed, but very much alive and ashamed.

“Hello, Mother,” she said. “Here I am!”

Mrs. McGuire ran down the sidewalk to clasp Veve in her arms. She was so happy to see her that she did not say a word about all the trouble that had been caused.

The car driver told Mr. Williams his name was Fred Clayhorn and that he was a drug salesman.

“Hope you haven’t worried too much about this little scamp,” he said, smiling at Veve. “I didn’t discover she had hitched her sled to my car until I was miles out in the country.”

“A filling-station man saw me and yelled for Mr. Clayhorn to stop,” explained Veve.

“Fortunately, I am a slow driver,” added Mr. Clayhorn. “Otherwise, I am afraid the little girl might have been thrown from her sled and seriously injured.”

Although Veve had not been hurt, she looked rather the worse for her adventure. The fast sled ride had not been any fun.

Ice had slashed into her face and her snowsuit was caked with mud and slush. She was all worn out too, from clinging so tightly to the bouncing sled.

“Thanks for bringing me home, Mr. Clayhorn,” she told him gratefully. “I never, never want to take another ride like that one.”

“I hope you never do,” he replied. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”

While the grownups talked, Connie helped Veve remove her sled from the luggage compartment of the gray sedan. One of the runners was bent where it had struck a stone in the road.

She was showing the place to Connie when her mother called: “Come, Veve! You must have a hot bath and climb right into bed. We’ll talk about this escapade later!”

“That means I’ll catch it!” Veve whispered to Connie. She was so tired, though, that she didn’t mind being put to bed.

After Mr. Clayhorn had driven away, Connie and her parents went into their own home.

The instant they opened the door, they knew something was wrong. Heavy black smoke filled the rooms.

“Oh, Mother!” cried Connie. “Is the house on fire?”

Mrs. Williams ran directly to the kitchen. She jerked a double-boiler from the stove. The bottom pan was black on the inside and smoke billowed from it in a great cloud.

“The chocolate pudding!” gasped Connie’s mother. “I went off and left the gas turned low. All the water boiled away.”

Connie helped her open windows to clear out the smoke. After a while it was not so heavy.

“I can’t recall ever having done such a careless thing before,” sighed Mrs. Williams. “I guess I was so worried about Veve I didn’t think what I was doing. The pan is ruined.”

“Was it a good one, Mother?”

“Yes, dear, but it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that Veve is home safely.”

Now that the excitement was over, Mrs. Williams sat down by the kitchen table and drew a deep breath. After she had rested a moment, she told Connie how proud she was of her for not having hitched a ride on the gray car, and also for having called help so quickly.

“Each day you are becoming more dependable,” she praised. “I do believe your Brownie Scout training has helped.”

“I wish Veve would join the troop, Mother. Why do you suppose she makes fun of the Brownies?”

“Veve is very young and likes to try to be different,” answered Mrs. Williams. “Be patient, Connie. One of these days, she may ask to join the organization.”

Now that the chocolate pudding was ruined, it was necessary to send someone to the corner store for a cake. Connie offered to go. However, it was dark so her father said he would make the purchase.

“And may we have ice cream too?” Connie requested.

“On a winter day like this?” her father asked in surprise.

“Oh, I could eat ice cream every day in the year,” laughed Connie. Her blue eyes twinkled as she added: “Especially on my birthday.”

Now Connie’s birthday came on the twelfth day of December. The date was very near, and she was a tiny bit afraid her mother and father might forget about it. So she thought she would mention it just to be sure.

“Will I have ice cream and cake on my birthday?” she asked.

“We’ll see,” returned her mother. She smiled in a most mysterious way.

The next day, Mrs. Williams did not say anything more about the approaching birthday. She acted as if she had entirely forgotten it.

At school, although all of the Brownies were there, Veve’s desk remained vacant.

Connie learned from Sunny and Jane that Veve had been kept home because she had a very severe cold.

“Serves her right,” said Jane, who had heard about the coasting mishap. “If she had used good common sense, she wouldn’t have been carried away on the sled!”

“Veve didn’t mean to get into trouble,” Connie defended her friend. “She’s just careless.”

Veve’s cold kept her indoors throughout the entire week. But on Saturday, the first day she was allowed outside, she came running over to play with Connie.

But Connie was on her way to Jane’s house to attend the regular weekly Brownie meeting and could not stop even to talk.

“I wish I could play with you, Veve,” she said. “You know how it is. We aren’t supposed to be late for meetings.”

“I know how it is, all right,” grumbled Veve. “I never see you any more—that’s what. Since you joined those stupid old Brownies, you’re no fun at all!”

“I’m having more fun than I ever did,” Connie called over her shoulder as she skipped off down the street.

At Jane’s house, the Brownies again were working on scrapbooks for the hospital.

Miss Gordon, however, had varied the program with another of her frequent “surprises.”

Captain Frank Bentley of the Rosedale Police Station had been invited in to explain rules of safety to the Brownies.

Now, although the police officer was very much at ease when directing traffic or guarding school crossings, he seemed rather embarrassed as he faced the sober-eyed little girls.

He told them never to cross a street without first pausing to look carefully in both directions. And he warned them about the danger of dodging in behind parked cars or running when they crossed a street.

“Another thing” he added. “In case you ever witness an accident, always notify an adult person, or call the police station.”

“That’s exactly what Connie did,” spoke up Eileen proudly. “When Veve was carried away on her sled, she telephoned the police, and then she went home and reported the accident to her mother.”

“Brownies are very smart little girls,” said the police officer. “This talk probably isn’t in the least necessary.”

“Oh, but we’ve enjoyed it, and we’ve learned a lot!” declared Connie quickly.

“We’ll all be more careful in the future, I’m sure,” added Rosemary.

“That Veve McGuire is the one who should be here,” declared Jane, fingering the dancing elf design on her Brownie pin. “She’s worse than anyone I know when she dashes for school. Once she was nearly struck by a car.”

“Oh, Veve isn’t as careless as she was,” Connie said, standing up for her friend. “Since her accident with the sled, she has been very careful.”

“Careful!” snorted Jane. “That’s because she’s had to stay in the house most of the time. If there’s one person in the world who should learn something about safety, it’s Veve McGuire!”

Now Miss Gordon did not like to hear the girls discuss Veve so frankly when the little girl was not present. But instead of scolding Jane for being so outspoken, she changed the subject by asking:

“By the way, girls, has anyone learned if Veve plans to join our Brownie troop in the next few weeks?”

The leader of the Rosedale troop looked directly at Connie, who was much better acquainted with Veve than any of the other girls.

Now Connie did not wish to tell Miss Gordon all the unkind things that Veve had said about the Brownie organization.

So she replied quite truthfully that she had not discussed the subject with her for a long while.

“You might speak to her about it sometime,” urged the leader. “We really want Veve.”

“Not if she keeps on saying things about the Brownies,” whispered Jane, who always was outspoken.

Rosemary gave her a warning nudge and she became quiet.

Following Captain Bentley’s talk, the Brownies served fruit juice and cookies. Usually they had refreshments at the end of the meeting. This time they served early so the police officer would not need to wait.

Captain Bentley drank a cup of juice, ate three cookies and admired the fine scrapbooks. Then he said good-bye to the girls, reminding them again not to forget the safety rules.

“Whenever you come to a street intersection, always stop, look and listen,” he advised as he started to leave. “That way, you’ll avoid accidents.”

Bowing to Miss Gordon, Captain Bentley backed out the door squarely onto the tail of Jane’s kitten, Blackie, who drowsed in the sunshine.

With a squawk, the kitten scampered through the startled officer’s legs. His foot slipped on a patch of ice. Arms and legs flailed and thrashed the air as he sought vainly to keep his balance.

Then, with a thud, his two hundred and ten pounds came down on the cement porch.

Captain Bentley wasn’t hurt, only jarred. But he grinned with embarrassment as he picked himself up. All the Brownies shouted with laughter.

“Always remember the safety rules,” the officer chuckled. “And I might add, they apply to kitten tails as well as street crossings!”

After the captain had gone, the girls worked hard on their scrapbooks. They talked about the approaching Christmas holidays and what they would do during school vacation. No one had made any special plans.

“We can’t go coasting or ice skating, that’s certain,” sighed Rosemary, listening to the steady drip of melting snow on the roof.

Since the last Brownie meeting, the weather gradually had turned warmer. Only a little snow and a few icicles remained to remind the girls of the recent storm.

“I don’t even want new skates for Christmas,” declared Jane, carefully wiping up a blob of paste which had dropped on the rug. “Just once, I wish we could have a giant-size snowstorm here!”

“Out West where my Grandfather and Grandmother Williams live, they have wonderful snowstorms,” Connie said wistfully. “Once they were snowed in their house nearly a week.”

“You mean they couldn’t get out at all?” asked Sunny in awe.

“Not until a big snowplow came along and opened up the roads. They didn’t starve though, because they had plenty of food in the house.”

“In Minnesota, where my grandparents live, the snows are very heavy too,” said Miss Gordon. She smiled at the recollection. “Christmas at Snow Valley—I count it as one of my happiest memories.”

“Snow Valley,” repeated Connie. “What a beautiful name!”

“Are the snows really deep?” asked Eileen.

“I’ve seen drifts so high they nearly touched the roof. And the coasting! Out of this world!”

Miss Gordon told the girls more about the farm home of her Grandfather and Grandmother Gordon. The living room fireplace was so large that quarter logs were burned in it instead of chopped wood.

“I wish a flying carpet would come along and take me there right now!” exclaimed Connie, her eyes bright.

“Perhaps I’ll return to Minnesota for the holidays,” revealed Miss Gordon. “And that brings me to an important question. You remember the ‘surprise’ of which I spoke?”

Immediately the room buzzed with excited conversation.

Miss Gordon had to raise her hand in the Brownie sign for silence. Connie followed suit, becoming as still as a mouse. Next Sunny raised her hand, and last of all, Jane, who was chattering like a magpie.

When one could have heard a pin drop, Miss Gordon said:

“Girls, I’ve talked to your parents, but I can’t reveal the secret just yet. However, I have an important question to ask. Think well before you answer.”

“What is the question, Miss Gordon?” Sunny was squirming with impatience.

“Merely this. How many would be willing to give up part of their school vacation for a Brownie outing?”

“A hike?” demanded Jane.

Miss Gordon smiled and shook her head.

“A trip?” asked Connie, who was a much better guesser.

“Now don’t ask me to reveal the secret too soon,” laughed the leader of the Brownies. “Christmas holidays are precious days. Even if your parents were willing, would you really want to go away from Rosedale?”

“You mean for several days?” Jane asked, her breath quite taken away. “Over Christmas?”

“It might mean being gone on Christmas Day,” Miss Gordon admitted soberly. “So far, the plan is not definite.”

“Then if we were gone, we wouldn’t get any Christmas presents,” said Sunny, losing her happy smile.

“That part would be taken care of, I assure you,” Miss Gordon declared. “Naturally, I can’t expect you to say whether you would be willing to leave Rosedale, when I haven’t told you where the troop would go.”

The Brownies looked somewhat relieved and waited anxiously for their leader to continue.

Miss Gordon, however, realized that she had said almost too much.

“I can’t tell you any more about the plan until we meet again,” she said. “Until then, I’ll merely ask you all to think very seriously of the question I have raised. If the answer should be ‘yes’—well, who knows?”

CHAPTER 4
Miss Gordon’s Surprise

CONNIE’S birthday came on Thursday. The little girl rolled out of bed and went down to breakfast feeling rather blue.

“Happy birthday, dear,” said her mother, giving her a kiss.

“Why, Mother,” laughed Connie, suddenly feeling quite cheerful, “I thought you had forgotten. And Daddy too!”

“Look beside your plate if you think that,” teased her father.

Connie ran into the breakfast room. Beside her plate was a small package wrapped in tissue paper.

“It’s a birthday present, isn’t it?” she said, untying the pink ribbon. Of course she knew it was.

“A gift for the nicest little girl in the world,” declared her mother, smiling.

Connie couldn’t guess what her parents had given her. She pulled away the tissue paper and a ring popped out. On it was a design of a dancing Brownie, and her own initials.

“Oh, a Brownie ring!” cried Connie, doing a dance of her own on the carpet. “Just what I wanted!”

Connie was very proud of her new birthday ring. She showed it to the mailman when he brought the morning letters, and to the Brownies at school.

Only one thing bothered Connie. She had received no package from her Grandmother and Grandfather Williams. When she returned home at three o’clock, she asked her mother if a gift had arrived.

“Not yet, Connie.”

“Do you suppose they forgot my birthday, Mother?”

Mrs. Williams replied she was quite certain they hadn’t. She thought the package possibly had been delayed in the mail and might arrive the next day.

“But tomorrow won’t be my birthday,” said Connie. “I would so much rather have the present today.”

“Tell me, has Veve seen your new Brownie ring?” asked her mother quickly.

“Not yet,” Connie replied, wondering why her mother had asked the question.

“You may go over for a while,” suggested Mrs. Williams. “But don’t stay longer than half an hour.”

At the McGuire home, Veve acted almost as if she had expected Connie. She wore a bright new pink gingham dress, and her dark curls had been brushed until they shone. However, she still had a trace of her cold.

“Why are you so dressed up, Veve?” Connie asked curiously. Usually Veve paid little attention to her clothes and liked to wear jeans with an old sweater.

“You’ll find out later,” laughed Veve. “Maybe I’m going somewhere.”

Connie showed Veve the new Brownie ring. Veve tried it on her own finger and then said she would rather have a bracelet for her birthday.

“What else did you get?” she asked.

“That’s all,” Connie admitted. “My Grandfather and Grandmother Williams forgot.”

“Maybe you’ll get something more later on,” hinted Veve.

For half an hour the two girls played together. Connie kept talking about the Brownies and their good times. She didn’t intend to annoy Veve, but she scarcely could keep from thinking about Miss Gordon’s “surprise.”

“Now what do you suppose she meant?” she asked aloud. “Wouldn’t it be grand if all the Brownies could go on a trip?”

“It’s four o’clock,” said Veve quickly. She had been watching the clock. “Let’s go over to your house.”

Arm in arm, the girls crossed the yard. Connie started toward the kitchen door, only to have Veve catch her hand and pull her toward the front porch.

Even then Connie didn’t suspect a thing. She opened the door and stood still. The living room fairly overflowed with her schoolmates.

All the Brownies were there, Jane, Rosemary, Eileen, Belinda and Sunny, whose smile stretched from ear to ear. Several other classmates also had been invited to the party. Miss Gordon was in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Williams make fancy sandwiches.

“Happy birthday, Connie!” everyone shouted. “Surprise! Surprise!”

Connie really was surprised. For a moment she couldn’t say a word.

“I knew about it all the time,” declared Veve, “but I didn’t dare tell. And here’s something for you.”

Although it wasn’t time to offer gifts or unwrap packages, she thrust a tissue-wrapped box into Connie’s hand. All the other girls had presents for her too.

“You see, we didn’t forget,” laughed Veve. “We were only waiting for the party to start.”

The girls played games which Miss Gordon directed. Connie’s mother brought in a huge paper pie with strings attached. Each girl pulled out her fortune.

“Mine says I’m going on a long trip!” announced Eileen, reading her slip. “Oh, Miss Gordon, does that mean just me, or all the Brownies?”

“Tell us the surprise,” the other Brownies chorused.

But Miss Gordon only smiled and said not a word.

When the party was nearly over Mrs. Williams served sandwiches, ice cream and cake. Each little girl received a paper hat and a horn that made a loud toot.

Then it came time for Connie to open her presents. Jane had given her a nylon hairbrush. Belinda’s gift was a pair of Brownie woolen sox while both Sunny and Eileen gave handkerchiefs with the same Brownie design. Rosemary had shopped a long while to find a pretty mirror.

Veve’s present was a bright red hair ribbon. The other girls gave an assortment of books, pins and games.

“Such wonderful gifts,” declared Connie, opening them one at a time. She thanked everyone. “I’ve never had a nicer birthday!”

“Our Brownie troop soon will have a birthday,” Miss Gordon reminded the girls. “Then we must celebrate again.”

Connie liked best of all the gifts with Brownie emblems, but she was too polite to say so. She did not show that any present pleased her more than another.

At five o’clock the party was over. One by one the girls went home, until only Veve and the Brownies were left. They offered to help Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams straighten up and carry the dirty plates to the kitchen.

“Did you have a nice time, Connie?” asked her mother.

“Oh, yes, Mother! This has been my very nicest party—only—”

Connie started to mention again that her Grandmother and Grandfather Williams had forgotten to send even a birthday card.

Before she could speak, her father’s car rolled onto the driveway with a loud crunch of gravel. A moment later he came into the house, carrying a large package.

“Special delivery for Miss Constance Williams,” he called in a loud voice. “Anyone here by that name?”

Connie laughed aloud, for although her name really was Constance, no one ever thought to call her by it.

The package was long, narrow, and very large.

“Is it from my Grandmother Williams?” Connie asked eagerly.

She tried to untie the cords on the package but they were very firm. Her father finally had to cut them with his pocket knife.

While the Brownies and Veve gathered around, Connie unwrapped two layers of heavy brown paper. Next she removed a covering of tissue paper.

Two long, narrow boards with leather straps clattered to the floor.

“Why, what are they?” asked Connie. She could not hide her disappointment.

“Skis,” announced Veve. “But how can you use them when there isn’t any snow?”

“I’m afraid Grandmother forgot about our mild weather,” admitted Mrs. Williams. Then to cheer Connie, she added: “Before spring, we’ll surely have another snow.”

Connie gazed out into the muddy yard and couldn’t say a word. The other Brownies knew just how discouraged she felt.

The room was very quiet. Then, unexpectedly, Miss Gordon took a letter from her pocket.

“Girls,” she said, “I know this isn’t a Brownie meeting, so perhaps I should wait. But I do have important news.”

“Tell us,” chorused the Brownies.

“You remember the question I asked you to think over?”

“Oh, yes,” agreed the Brownies. The skis now were forgotten and everyone listened hard.

Veve was the only one who acted as if she did not care to hear the news. She pretended to be looking at Connie’s presents on the table.

“Girls,” said Miss Gordon, coming directly to the point, “how would you like to spend a week at Snow Valley in Minnesota?”

For a second, the room was absolutely still. Then the girls began to chatter excitedly. Miss Gordon had to hold up her hand in the Brownie signal for silence.

“Before anyone answers, I’ll explain the entire plan,” declared the troop leader. “I haven’t told you about it before, because I was uncertain how matters would work out.”

“Please, Miss Gordon, tell us now,” pleaded Sunny.

“As you may know, my Grandmother and Grandfather Gordon have a farm at Snow Valley,” the teacher explained. “The house is large and there are beautiful snow-covered hills for coasting and skiing.”

“And we’re all invited to spend a week there?” Connie asked, her eyes shining.

“Yes, Grandmother wrote today saying she has room for six little Brownies. I’ve already talked to your parents, who have given their consent providing you care to go.”

“Oh, we do! We do!” cried Jane, capering across the floor.

“Will it mean being away from home on Christmas?” asked Eileen soberly. “I don’t think I would like that.”

“This is the plan,” explained Miss Gordon. “If we make the trip we will go by train, leaving the day school vacation starts. Grandfather Gordon will meet us at the station with his big bobsled. We’ll stay at the farm a week and be joined by your parents for Christmas.”

“You mean everyone will be there?” repeated Connie, looking relieved. “Oh, I’d like that! May I go, Mother?”

“I’ve already given my consent,” said her mother.

“We’ll have a wonderful week of winter sports, climaxed by a grand Christmas reunion,” declared the leader of the Brownies. “However, I realize some of you never have been away from home for an entire week. So, I’ll not ask anyone to decide now.”

“I’d never be homesick!” insisted Sunny. “If Mother has said ‘yes’, I want to go!”

“So do I!” cried Rosemary.

“Me too,” chimed in Eileen, though she looked a trifle troubled. She never had been away from home longer than two days at a time and wondered if she might be homesick.

“I’ll be there with bells when that old conductor yells: ‘Snow Valley!’” laughed Belinda.

Connie strapped on her new skis and skated across the living room rug.

“I’ll take these with me!” she cried. “Oh, we’ll have a wonderful time in Minnesota!”

Eagerly, the girls plied Miss Gordon with questions. They wanted to know how deep the snows were at the valley, how far the Gordon farm was from the station, and what luggage they should take.

Everyone was so interested in hearing about Snow Valley that for a while no one gave a thought to Veve.

She hadn’t said a word, because, of course, she wasn’t a member of the Brownie troop.

Finally, when the other girls had quieted down, she edged toward the door.

“I—I guess I’ll go home,” she said in a limp little voice.

“It’s been nice having you at the party,” declared Connie’s mother, for she saw Veve was about to cry.

“Oh, Veve!” cried Connie. “I wish you were a Brownie so you could go with us to Snow Valley!”

Veve started to reply and choked on the words. She ran out the door, letting it close hard behind her.

Miss Gordon then was sorry that she had mentioned the trip in the little girl’s presence.

“It was thoughtless of me,” she apologized, “because naturally Veve would like to go with us. I only wish she were a member of the troop.”

“Perhaps she’ll join before the Christmas holidays,” said Connie hopefully. “I’ll ask her.”

Miss Gordon smiled and shook her head.

“We want Veve to belong to the troop for its own sake and not because we are planning an outing. Besides, even if she should join now, I’m afraid we couldn’t take her along without making special arrangements.”

“Why is that, Miss Gordon?” Connie inquired.

“Grandmother Gordon has accommodations for only six Brownies.”

“Then Veve can’t go?”

“I don’t see how she can,” Miss Gordon replied regretfully.

No one said any more about the matter until the Brownies were putting on their wraps in the hallway.

Then Jane, tucking yellow braids under the hood of her snowsuit, remarked:

“It serves Veve right! She should have joined the Brownies long ago.”

“That’s true,” declared Belinda, and the others agreed.

All, that is, except Connie, who knew Veve would be very lonesome if her friends went away during the Christmas holidays.

The next few days at Rosedale passed quickly. Connie and the other Brownies dashed to and from school with open coats flapping in the December breeze, for the weather had turned quite warm.

“How cold will it be in Minnesota?” Belinda asked Miss Gordon.

“So cold you may turn into a big icicle,” laughed the teacher. “But if you do, Grandmother Gordon will know how to thaw you out at the kitchen woodstove.”

Belinda never before had made a train trip longer than twenty miles. She was excited and a little worried. Another matter troubled her too.

“Are you sure we’ll get our presents and see our parents on Christmas Day?” she asked the Brownie leader.

“According to the plan, your parents expect to arrive at Grandfather Gordon’s farm no later than the twenty-fourth,” replied the teacher. “Of course, something could go wrong.”

All the Brownies were so thrilled at the thought of going to Snow Valley, they could talk of little else. They were kept busy too, preparing for the journey.

Buttons needed to be sewed on and suitcases brought down from attics. Nearly every day after school Connie went downtown with her mother to buy little things she would need on the trip.

So busy were all the Brownie Scouts that they scarcely had time to talk to Veve. However, Connie noticed that her playmate looked very unhappy.

And then, on the final day before school was to be dismissed for the holidays, she came upon Veve sobbing in the cloakroom.

“Why, Veve!” she said in surprise. “Is anything wrong?” She thought perhaps the teacher had sent the little girl to the cloakroom as a punishment.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Veve replied, dabbing at her eyes.

“Yes, there is too,” Connie insisted. She slipped an arm about the other girl’s waist. “Tell me!”

Veve shook her head. Pulling away, she ran down the hall.

Miss Gordon entered the cloakroom just as the child darted through the doorway. She asked Connie why Veve was so upset.

“She wouldn’t say,” replied Connie, picking up a coat Veve carelessly had brushed to the floor. “I think though, she’s disappointed because she can’t go to Snow Valley with the Brownies.”

Now Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams already had guessed that Veve longed to go with the troop, and had discussed the matter with Mrs. McGuire.

So, with scarcely any hesitation, Miss Gordon was able to say: “I think it can be arranged.”

Connie wondered if she had heard correctly. Had the Brownie leader actually said Veve might go to Snow Valley?

“Only this afternoon I learned that Belinda will be unable to make the trip,” Miss Gordon explained. “Grandmother Gordon is expecting six little girls, so perhaps we can include Veve.”

Now this was astonishing news for Connie. Though she had noticed that Belinda’s desk had been vacant all day, she hadn’t known why she was absent from school.

“Belinda has a severe cold,” Miss Gordon explained. “It’s nothing serious, but her mother feels she should remain at home.”

Connie was sorry to learn that Belinda would be unable to go with the troop to Snow Valley. On the other hand, she was pleased that Veve might be able to take her place. “Of course, Veve isn’t a Brownie,” Miss Gordon remarked, thinking aloud. “She might not care to go with the troop. Or she might not have a good time.”

“Oh, I’m sure she would have a wonderful holiday!” cried Connie. “When will you invite her?”

“I’ll talk with her mother again tonight,” Miss Gordon promised. “Yes, I am hopeful everything can be arranged.”

Early the next morning, Connie knew the Brownie leader had talked to Mrs. McGuire, for Veve came flying over to the Williams’ home. She squeezed through the bars of the back yard gate and banged hard on the kitchen door.

Connie, who was finishing her breakfast, ran to let her in.

“Oh, Connie, guess what?” she cried, stomping into the kitchen. In her excitement, she hadn’t bothered to put on her coat or a cap. “I’m going to be a substitute Brownie!”

“And go to Snow Valley?”

“That’s right! How did you know?”

“Miss Gordon told me. Oh, Veve, I’m so glad!” Connie gave her an affectionate hug. “We’ll have a grand time, and maybe—”

Connie started to say that perhaps before the girls returned to Rosedale, Veve would decide to join the troop. Veve was so excited, however, she cut her short.

“Can’t stop to talk now,” she declared, whirling around to open the door. “My suitcase isn’t packed!”

“Miss Gordon says not to take too much luggage,” Connie advised her friend. “I’m packing two Brownie uniforms and a pair of sweaters and skirts. And one dress for nice in case we have a party.”

“Not your new skis?”

“Oh, yes,” laughed Connie, “but I’ll wear them on my feet, not my back!”

“Do you suppose I could take my sled along?”

“Not unless you check it in the baggage car, Veve. Anyway, Miss Gordon said there will be sleds at the farm. She told the Brownies that Grandfather Gordon made a bobsled that would carry six persons at one time!”

“Connie, is the kitchen door open?” Mrs. Williams called from the breakfast room. She could feel a cold blast of air.

“I’m going now,” said Veve. “Good-bye, Connie. See you later after I’m packed!”

She ran off home, allowing the door to bang hard behind her.

“Dear me,” remarked Mrs. Williams as Connie came to the breakfast table. “Veve is so high-spirited, I wonder if Miss Gordon won’t be kept busy looking after six Brownies.”

“Five Brownies and a substitute,” corrected Connie, reaching for a tall glass of orange juice. “Veve may make more trouble than all the others, but she’s lots of fun.”

Early the next morning, all the Brownies except Belinda were taken to the railroad station by their parents. The luggage was checked straight through to Deerford, the nearest town to Snow Valley. Miss Gordon took charge of the tickets, but allowed each girl to keep her own baggage check.

“Here comes the train!” shouted Veve suddenly.

Connie began to feel shivery inside. For just a minute she wasn’t certain she cared to leave her parents and travel to Minnesota.

“Have a good time, dear,” said her mother, stooping to kiss her. “It will only be a few days until we come for you.”

Other parents were saying good-bye to Rosemary, Jane, Eileen, Veve, and Sunny. Then the train rumbled into the station.

“Hurry or we’ll be left,” urged Veve as passengers began to alight.

“We have plenty of time,” replied Miss Gordon. “Please, girls, don’t shove.”

Although the Brownie leader said “girls,” she really meant Veve, who was trying to bore a hole through the crowd.

After all the passengers were off the train, Miss Gordon went aboard with her six charges. Mr. Williams helped her find seats for everyone.

“I think you will be quite comfortable,” said Mr. Williams. “Your train is due to arrive in Deerford at seven tonight.”

“Oh, Daddy, hurry and get off before the train starts,” Connie said anxiously. “You might be taken along.”

“I have plenty of time,” he replied. “But I’ll say goodbye now.”

He kissed Connie and left the car.

Connie and Veve, who shared a seat, pressed their faces against the car window. Their mothers were standing near the train, watching.

“Goodbye!” the girls called out together.

They waved from inside the window. Their mothers waved in return and blew kisses. Then the train began to move.

Connie and Veve and the Brownies were on their way to Minnesota.

CHAPTER 5
A Substitute Brownie

“I’M going to miss my mother a lot,” Veve sighed as she sank back on the seat.

Connie didn’t say anything. But from the way she looked, Veve knew she would miss her parents too. They both felt a bit homesick even though they weren’t a mile out of Rosedale.

Soon the train was traveling at full speed. Fields and houses rolled by just as if they were moving instead of the train.

“I know what let’s do,” proposed Veve. “Let’s count telegraph poles.”

For a little while this was great fun. Eileen and Jane, who sat in the seat across from Connie and Veve, tried it too.

At three hundred and four Veve lost count and didn’t want to play the game any more.

“What shall we do now?” she asked restlessly.

“Let’s just ride awhile,” Connie proposed.

Presently a cold draft of wind blew through the car. The conductor, who was fat and jolly, came down the aisle. He collected the tickets from Miss Gordon, and talked with the Brownies.

“You’ll need to shake your furs out of moth balls when you get to Deerford,” he joked. “Snow’s six feet deep there. I nearly had my ears nipped off when we went through on the run yesterday.”

The Brownies settled down to enjoy the long ride ahead. Eileen and Jane played a card game.

Rosemary, who sat with Miss Gordon, helped her turn the seat so that the four faced each other. Sunny, who didn’t want to sit alone, squeezed in beside them.

After a while, when the girls were tired of playing cards and talking, Sunny began to hum the Brownie “Smile” song.

Soon, to the enjoyment of the passengers, all the girls except Veve were singing it. Veve tried to join in, but not being a Brownie, she didn’t know the words.

“I’ve something in my pocket;

It belongs across my face,

And I keep it very close at hand,

In a most convenient place.

“I’m sure you couldn’t guess it

If you guessed a long, long while,

So I’ll take it out and put it on—

It’s a great big Brownie smile.”

As the Brownies sang the song, they grinned from ear to ear. Soon all the passengers in the car were smiling too.

“Is it almost time for lunch?” Veve asked after a while. “I’m starving!”

“So am I!” declared Rosemary. “I could eat a fried elephant!”

Miss Gordon looked at her watch. “It is only five minutes after eleven,” she told the girls. “The diner won’t be open for at least twenty-five minutes.”

“Then where can I get a drink of water, please?” asked Veve. She was more restless than thirsty.

Connie had noticed a water cooler at the end of the aisle. She offered to show Veve.

Beside the tank was a metal container which held paper cups nested together. Veve took out one for herself and one for Connie. They drank the ice water slowly. It was so cold it made their teeth ache.

Veve, who liked to remove the paper cups from the machine, decided to take a drink to Miss Gordon.

Down the aisle she started, balancing the filled cup carefully.

Just then the train gave a sudden lurch as it slackened speed for a curve. Veve stumbled sideways.

The cup slipped from her hand, and a little water splashed on a man who sat along the aisle.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry,” Veve said politely.

When Veve finally reached Miss Gordon’s seat, not much water was left in the cup. The teacher drank what little there was and thanked Veve.

Sunny offered to get her another cup, and soon all the Brownies needed a drink. Miss Gordon had to ask them to remain in their seats because she was afraid they might disturb the other passengers.

“Let’s play jacks,” suggested Veve, who wanted to do something every minute.

“What with?” inquired Connie, not very much interested.

“Oh, I brought some with me,” Veve said, taking them from her pocket. “We can play on the seat.”

The girls crossed their legs and sat at either end of the car cushion. This left a small place between them where they could play.

“You start first, Veve,” Connie suggested politely. “Let’s see if you can get past your ‘ones.’”

“Oh, I’ll go up to my ‘fours’ at least,” Veve boasted. “Just watch!”

The little girl threw one jack on the cushion. She tossed another into the air, scooped up the one on the cushion and caught the other before it fell. Then she threw two down and continued until she had reached her “fours.”

“Didn’t I tell you, Connie?”

“Yes, but it’s going to be hard now,” said Connie. “There are three jacks together and one off at the side.”

“I can do it. Just watch!”

Veve caught up three of the jacks. But when she tried to get the fourth, all flew from her hand and went helter-skelter over the car floor. Several rolled into the aisle.

Before Connie or Veve could pick them up, the same elderly man who had been doused with water ambled down the aisle.

He failed to see the jacks lying on the car floor. Veve tried to warn him, but she spoke too late.

The man stepped squarely on one of the jacks and the points cut through his soft-soled slipper.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed. “My goodness!”

The other Brownies, Miss Gordon and many of the passengers, turned to see why the man was making such a fuss.

“Mister, you are standing on one of my jacks,” said Veve.

Although she spoke politely, it seemed to be exactly the wrong thing to say.

“Your jacks?” demanded the man. “You might have crippled me for life!”

“Veve didn’t mean to do it,” said Connie quickly. “The jacks just slipped from her hand.”

She stooped down and gathered up four jacks which she gave to Veve.

“One is missing,” said Veve, gazing directly at the elderly man. “I think you are standing on it.”

“This is an outrage!” declared the man irritably. “Children should not be allowed to play games on trains. Where are your parents?”

Connie and Veve did not reply. They were relieved when Miss Gordon left her seat and spoke to the man.

She explained to him that Veve had dropped the jack quite by accident. The man accepted the apology, but he remained rather cross.

“It was an accident too when she spilled water on me,” he said. “I hope it doesn’t happen again.”

The man went on down the aisle and Veve picked up her jack.

“Now shall I try my ‘fours’ again?” she asked.

“Oh, no,” Connie replied, shaking her blond tangled curls. “Let’s not play any more. Everyone is looking at us.”

“Then what shall we do until lunch time?”

“Let’s just ride awhile,” sighed Connie. “I think everyone needs a rest.”

Veve, she knew, was causing considerable annoyance to Miss Gordon and the other train passengers, although her playmate never intentionally made trouble.

“Look! It’s snowing!” cried Jane suddenly from across the aisle.

Everyone turned to gaze out the windows. Big feathery flakes were fluttering down, banking up on the double glass.

“What beautiful patterns!” cried Eileen. “Miss Gordon, are any two snowflakes ever alike?”

Now the leader of the Brownie troop was very glad that the question had been asked. It gave her an opportunity to call all the girls together and keep them from annoying other passengers.

“Shall I tell you a few things about snow?” she asked, without immediately answering Eileen’s question.

“Oh, yes! Please do!” pleaded the Brownies.

Connie and Veve perched on the chair arms as Miss Gordon gathered the girls in the double seats.

“Now first, I’ll answer Eileen’s question,” the teacher declared. “No two snowflakes ever are exactly alike.”

“How can one be sure?” inquired Jane.

“Scientists have photographed them. A study of more than five thousand flakes revealed no two quite alike.”

“Some of the snowflakes are like stars,” Connie said softly, watching them pelt against the window.

“The hexagonal shape is fairly common,” Miss Gordon explained. “Three-sided flakes are considered rare.”

Immediately the Brownies began to watch for a triangular snowflake. They did not see a single one.

“The flakes are like tiny white parachutes floating down,” Connie declared. “Why are they white when they’re made of water?”

“Another excellent question. Snow is white because it reflects and refracts light. If you should examine it under a microscope you would see that the edges are like a prism, breaking the light into rainbow colors.”

“What makes the flakes large or small?” questioned Sunny.

“Temperature, I believe, determines the size. At low thermometer readings, flakes tend to be smaller.”

“I think the flakes are getting smaller now,” announced Veve. “Does that mean it’s getting colder outside?”

“We’re traveling north, so it may be getting colder,” replied Miss Gordon. “However, I meant that large flakes are likely to fall when the temperature high in the clouds is at freezing or slightly below.”

“I don’t see any small flakes,” Jane insisted. “They’re still coming down as large as ever.”

“I wish we could save the flakes instead of having them melt,” said Connie quickly. She was afraid Veve might argue with Jane about the size of the crystals.

“There is a way, you know,” informed Miss Gordon.

“A way to preserve snowflakes?” Connie echoed, and all the other girls looked surprised.

“One needs a solution of plastic resin. A drop of it is placed on a glass side, then a captured snowflake, and another drop of the resin.”

“A snowflake sandwich!” laughed Connie.

“Were you ever out in a heavy snowstorm?” Rosemary next asked the Brownie leader. “I mean a real blizzard?”

“Once when I was a girl in Minnesota. I remember how the wind howled and dashed snow in my face. I was walking home from school at the time and I feared I never could make it.”

“What was it like?” Jane asked, eager for additional details.

“If ever you are in a blizzard, you never will forget the experience. The snow coats your face and even freezes on your eyelids. One can’t see very far ahead and the wind catches your breath. Some folks have lost their way in such storms.”

“Do they have blizzards in Minnesota—I mean at Snow Valley?” Veve corrected herself.

“Oh, yes, but a true blizzard is rather rare. I doubt we’ll see other than heavy snow while we are there.”

Just then the conductor came through the car calling:

“Albion Junction! Albion Junction! Twenty-five minutes stop!”

“May we get off and walk around?” Rosemary asked Miss Gordon. She was very tired of sitting for so long a period.

The Brownie leader said that perhaps the entire group could have luncheon at the Junction instead of going into the dining car where meals would cost a great deal more.

Accordingly, she talked with the conductor a moment and returned to report that Albion Junction had a lunchroom in the depot.

“Will we have time enough?” asked Sunny anxiously. She was afraid the train might leave without them.

“Yes, providing we go directly to the lunchroom and order promptly,” Miss Gordon said.

She instructed the girls to pair off and to remain together. As soon as the train stopped at Albion Junction, they alighted and walked in orderly file to the lunchroom.

All of the Brownies ordered the plate luncheon. Veve, who wanted to be different, asked the waitress to bring her a sandwich and a cherry ice cream soda.

It took a long while for the sandwich to be made, so the other girls were nearly finished before she started to eat. Miss Gordon kept glancing anxiously at the lunchroom clock.

“We have five minutes,” she warned the girls when finally Veve had taken a last sip of her cherry soda. “Everyone ready?”

The girls paired off, Veve walking with Eileen.

Already the other passengers were getting on the train.

“All aboard!” called the brakeman.

As the girls reached their car, Veve stopped short.

“My pocketbook!” she exclaimed in a frightened voice. “I left it on the lunch counter.”

Before Miss Gordon could stop her, Veve whirled and ran back toward the lunchroom.

“Oh, she’ll miss the train!” wailed Sunny. “It’s ready to start now.”

Miss Gordon was very worried. Directing the other Brownies to climb aboard and take their seats, she hurried off to the lunchroom in pursuit of Veve.

Now Veve, in reaching the cafeteria, saw her red purse lying on the counter where she had left it.

Snatching it up, she darted out the side door instead of the one she had entered. Therefore, when Miss Gordon came in a moment later, Veve was nowhere to be seen.

“Did you see a little girl in here just now?” she asked the waitress.

“Yes, she ran out the side door,” the other responded.

Miss Gordon hastened back to the train. She looked up and down the platform. Veve was nowhere to be seen.

Had the little girl boarded the train? Or had she gone elsewhere? Anxiously, Miss Gordon asked the brakeman if he had helped the child onto the car.

“Haven’t seen her,” he replied.

“How long have we here?”

“Two more minutes,” said the brakeman, looking at his big yellow gold watch. “Can’t hold the train either. We’re already fifteen minutes behind time.”

Miss Gordon was nearly beside herself with worry. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t allow the Brownies to travel on alone to Snow Valley, nor dared she leave Veve behind.

A few passengers who had alighted at Albion Junction remained on the platform. Miss Gordon asked them if they had seen Veve anywhere. No one had paid particular heed to the little girl.

The engine began to puff steam. In a moment it would start.

“All aboard!” called the brakeman again.

The last of the straggling passengers hastily entered the car. Only Miss Gordon remained.

“Sorry,” said the brakeman. “I’d like to hold the train, but we can’t. All aboard!”

He reached down to pick up the step-stool. Slowly the train began to move.

CHAPTER 6
Snowland

ABOARD the train, all the Brownies wondered what had delayed Veve and Miss Gordon.

“I wish they’d hurry and come!” Connie said, squirming nervously in her seat.

“So do I,” added Sunny. “The train’s due to start any minute.”

“Veve never should have forgotten her pocketbook,” Jane offered her opinion. “And then she ran back without even asking Miss Gordon!”

“Veve never stops to think,” Connie said, trying to defend her friend.

She was even more worried than the other Brownies, for she knew Veve’s careless ways. If the little girl failed to find her purse, well, one couldn’t guess what she might do.

“The train’s ready to start!” Sunny said anxiously. “See, everyone is getting on!”

“Everyone except Veve and Miss Gordon,” corrected Jane. “Oh, I could wring her neck! Veve’s, I mean.”

Connie scrambled across the aisle to a window which had not been frosted over. She saw Miss Gordon standing alone on the platform. Veve was nowhere to be seen.

Almost at the same instant, the Brownie leader noticed Connie. She ran over to the car window.

“Is Veve aboard?” she called.

Connie shook her head.

Miss Gordon was nearly frantic with worry. The train had started to move.

“Miss, are you getting on, or staying?” called the brakeman.

Before the Brownie leader could decide, Connie began to make strange motions. All the Brownies crowded to the car windows, beckoning for Miss Gordon to board the train.

The teacher thought they were only afraid that she would be left behind and they would have to go on alone to Snow Valley. Then she was startled to see Veve’s face pressed against the car window.

Miss Gordon didn’t hesitate an instant. She swung aboard the train a moment before the compartment doors were closed.

Feeling weak and trembly, she walked back to the Brownies.

“Oh, Connie,” she murmured. “I thought you said Veve wasn’t aboard. It gave me such a fright!”

“But Veve wasn’t in the car when you asked me,” Connie explained soberly. “She came in as you were calling through the window.”

“That’s right,” agreed Veve. “I found my pocketbook. I was afraid the train might start up, so I got on the first car I came to and walked back. The train’s a long one—that’s why it took me so long to find this car.”

“Oh, Veve,” murmured Miss Gordon. “You might have missed the train.”

“I knew I was on it all the time.”

“But we didn’t know it, and neither did Miss Gordon,” said Jane severely. “Veve, you should be more careful.”

“I will next time,” Veve mumbled, looking ashamed. “Could I help it because I lost my pocketbook?”

“You might have checked to see if you had it before you left the lunchroom,” lectured Jane. “A Brownie always is responsible.”

“I’m not a Brownie, and I did try!” Veve replied, nearly in tears.

“Veve has learned her lesson and will be more careful in the future, I’m sure,” declared Miss Gordon. She slipped an arm about the girl’s shaking shoulders. “Now shall we forget about it?”

Veve sat down beside Connie and became very subdued. After a while, to make certain none of her money had been lost, she glanced in her purse.

Not a penny was missing. But her heart gave a skip and jump and tried to leap into her throat.

The luggage check! What had become of it?

Distinctly, Veve remembered having placed the bit of cardboard in her purse when Miss Gordon had given it to her at Rosedale station. She recalled too, having seen the check when she bought her lunch at Albion Junction.

Frantically, she dug down beneath the coins. The check was not there, or anywhere in the purse. Nor could she find it on the floor beneath the car seat.

“Looking for something?” asked Connie.

“My luggage check,” Veve whispered. “Oh, Connie, whatever shall I do? I think I dropped it in the station when I bought my lunch.”

“Oh, Veve!”

“Don’t tell Miss Gordon or the other Brownies,” Veve pleaded in a whisper.

“But they’ll have to know. How will you get your luggage without the check?”

“I—I’ll go without any clothes.”

“That’s silly. You’ll have to have your suitcase.”

“Maybe I’ll find the check, Connie. Please don’t tell the others—at least not yet. They think I’m so stupid for almost missing the train. Oh, Connie, please—”

“Say, what are you two whispering about?” demanded Jane from across the aisle. “Let us into the secret too.”

“We were just talking,” Connie replied. She decided not to tell the Brownies just then about Veve’s latest difficulty.

When the other girls weren’t looking, she helped Veve search for the luggage check. It was not in her coat pocket or anywhere on or under the seat.

“We’ll have to tell Miss Gordon,” Connie said. “Maybe she’ll know what to do.”

“I’ll tell her when we reach Deerford,” Veve decided unhappily. “Until then, let’s not say a word. I want her to forget first about almost missing the train.”

During the remainder of the trip, Veve did not make any trouble. She sat very quietly in her seat and wondered what she would do if she were unable to claim her luggage.

The Brownies watched the snow pelt on the train windows. Now and then they glimpsed a frozen lake in the distance. As the miles clicked away beneath the shining steel rails, the snows deepened.

“Another hour or two and we should reach Snow Valley,” Miss Gordon declared, looking at her watch. “Once we reach Deerford station, it wont take long to drive to the farm.”

“The coasting should be wonderful,” said Rosemary, pressing her face close to the car window. By now it was so dark she scarcely could see the white-coated trees and rooftops.

“I wish this old train would go faster,” Jane declared impatiently. “I can hardly wait to get to Deerford.”

Everyone except Veve shared her eagerness to reach the Gordon farm. The leader of the Brownies noticed the little girl’s downcast face and assumed that she still was troubled about nearly missing the train at Albion Junction.

“Cheer up, Veve,” she said. “Think of the delicious dinner Grandma Gordon will have waiting for us when we arrive!”

Veve tried to smile but succeeded only in making a grimace. She kept wondering what Miss Gordon and the Brownies would say when she told them about the lost luggage check.

Thinking about it made her rather tired and discouraged. She really had tried to act properly and never cause annoyance. Nothing seemed to go right.

“Except for Connie, the Brownies don’t like me very well,” she thought, feeling very sorry for herself. “Oh, dear, I almost wish I were back home.”

A tear trickled down Veve’s cheek. She was afraid to wipe it away for fear Connie or the other girls would see that she had been crying. So she closed both eyes tightly and counted the click of the rails.

The sound lulled Veve into drowsiness and slumber. Then she had a dream.

She thought she had arrived in a strange town. Grandfather Gordon could be seen motioning to her from the top of a spruce tree. Next he seemed to be floating along in front of her only a few feet from the ground. But no matter how fast she ran, she never could reach him.

The dream ended abruptly, as someone shook her arm.

“Wake up!” said Miss Gordon in her ear. “Another five minutes and we will be in Deerford Station.”

For an instant Veve couldn’t think where she was. Then it all came back to her, and she remembered the missing luggage check.

“Miss Gordon—” she began, but already the Brownie leader had turned aside to help Sunny lift a package down from the overhead luggage rack.

The brakeman came through the train, calling: “Deerford is the next station. Deerford! Deerford!”

He paused beside Veve’s seat and smiled at her. “Don’t forget to get off the train, little girl. And be sure to take your packages.”

Now to make certain that nothing would be left behind, Miss Gordon made a last-minute check herself. The girls had brought very little hand luggage. Nearly everything had been sent to the baggage car.

“How will we get our bags?” Eileen asked, dusting off a fleck of soot from her coat.

“They’ll be waiting for us at the station,” Miss Gordon said. “Just have your claim checks ready, girls.”

In a short while the air brakes began to make a whistling sound. The train slowed down a little at a time.

Then it came to a sudden stop and the brakeman called again: “All out for Deerford! All out!”

Connie led the way while Miss Gordon brought up the rear to make certain no one was left behind.

When the Brownies reached the vestibule, a chill blast of air struck their faces. Hastily, they buttoned their coats.

Outside the train, it was quite dark. Connie, who was the first to alight, looked up and down the platform.

“Where’s Grandfather Gordon?” she asked. “Isn’t he here?”

No one was in sight except the depot agent and a boy who was hauling luggage from the baggage car ahead.

Then Connie saw a man in a heavy overcoat and cap walking toward her. His face was covered with a warm muffler.

“Well, well!” he exclaimed, grasping her firmly by the waist and swinging her off the platform. “If it isn’t Sunny Davidson!”

“No, I’m Connie Williams,” the little girl laughed. “Sunny’s just getting off the train now.”

“I’m Jane Tuttle,” announced Jane, who had followed close behind Connie.

Grandfather Gordon gave her long golden braids a friendly tweak, and turned to say hello to Rosemary, Sunny and Eileen.

“And who is sober-face?” he asked, gazing at Veve as she stepped down from the train just ahead of Miss Gordon.

“I’m Veve McGuire,” she told him, not even trying to smile. She was thinking about the luggage check.

Grandfather Gordon gave Miss Gordon a hearty kiss and hug, and then herded the Brownies ahead of him down the platform.

“Can’t stand here getting cold,” he rumbled. “Come on over to the bobsled. I’ll tuck you all under the bearskin robe.”

“What about our luggage?” asked Eileen.

The question brought Veve up short, and made her feel a little sick in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh, yes, the luggage checks, girls,” said Miss Gordon. “Just give them to Grandfather. He’ll take care of everything.”

Everyone except Veve had her luggage check ready. All the girls were so excited about climbing into the big bobsled that they did not notice, and only Connie knew Veve did not have it.

“Five checks,” said Grandfather Gordon, starting toward the baggage room of the depot. “I’ll have the suitcases in a jiffy.”

Connie fell into step with him. “I’ll go along and help,” she offered.

Grandfather Gordon took such long steps that she had to trot to keep up with him. The air was tingling cold.

“Please, Mr. Gordon,” said Connie, and her breath came out in puffs of white vapor, “there should be six suitcases.”

“Six?”

“You have only five checks, because Veve lost hers. Oh, Veve’s had a dreadful time! She didn’t want the other Brownies to know.”

Connie poured out the entire story of how her friend had nearly missed the train at Albion Junction, and then had lost the luggage check.

Grandfather Gordon gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. “Now don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he chuckled. “We’ll get that bag and no one will be the wiser.”

“You mean you can get it without having a check?”

“Harry Hopkins, the station agent, is an old friend of mine. Come along and point out the bag.”

All the luggage had been piled up on the station platform, Veve’s bag with the others.

Grandfather Gordon presented the five claim checks and explained about the one that was lost.

“I’m not supposed to turn over a bag without a check,” said the station agent. “But under the circumstances, take it along.”

Grandfather Gordon carried all of the luggage to the bobsled.

Veve caught sight of her bag with the others and nearly let out a war whoop. Grandfather Gordon didn’t say a word. He lifted Connie into the sled and then unhitched the horses.

Snuggling beneath the bearskin robe, Veve whispered in her friend’s ear:

“Connie, how did you do it?”

“Easy,” she whispered in return. “Grandfather Gordon just asked for the bag and the station agent gave it to him.”

Jane Tuttle stirred restlessly. “What are you two whispering about this time?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” laughed Veve. She felt quite cheerful again.

Grandfather Gordon leaped into the bobsled and clucked to the horses. Away they started at a fast clip down the snowy road.

“We’re off for Snow Valley!” shouted Eileen. “Hurrah!”

“Listen!” cried Veve.

Distinctly the girls could hear the merry jingle of sleighbells. A moment later, the sleigh itself appeared, drawn by a pure white horse.

When the tinkle of the bells had died away, the Brownies heard only the soft swish of the sled runners through the hard-packed snow.

On either side of the curving road rose huge drifts, which the girls glimpsed briefly whenever they passed a lighted house.

Connie noticed a high hill, frosted over like a beautiful white cake. Overhead, a few lonesome stars twinkled their eyes.

“A magic mountain!” she exclaimed. “Right out of a story book!”

“Hammer Hill,” said Grandfather Gordon, waving his mitten toward the mound of snow in the distance. “Snow Valley is hidden behind it.”

“Will we be there soon?” asked Sunny, ducking her head to elude the biting wind. “I’m hungry as a wolf.”

“As fast as old Maude and Ginger will take us,” promised Grandfather Gordon. “Have to make one stop though.” He tapped three large sacks of groceries stowed in the front of the sled. “I promised to drop these off at John Jeffert’s place.”

“We’re coming to it now,” added Miss Gordon. She pointed ahead to a forest of evergreen trees. The Brownies could not see the house.

“It’s hidden deep in the woods,” the teacher explained. “Mr. Jeffert is quite a character. He lives alone, and seldom goes into town.”

“How does he earn his living?” inquired Jane curiously.

“Why, he raises evergreens for the market,” Miss Gordon revealed. “He has hundreds of Christmas trees on his land.”

At the entrance to the lane which wound in through the evergreens, Mr. Gordon drew rein. A track had not yet been broken through the deep snows ahead.

“I’ll leave the sled and horses here,” he announced. “Be back as soon as I’ve delivered the groceries.”

Grandfather Gordon tied Maude and Ginger to a tree and unloaded the three sacks from the sled.

“Let me go with you and help carry them,” offered Connie quickly.

“I’ll carry a sack too,” offered Jane.

“The snow is deep,” Grandfather Gordon warned. “Think you can make it?”

Connie and Jane were certain they could. They buckled up their galoshes and leaped out of the sled, eager to help.

Grandfather Gordon handed each of the girls a light sack of groceries. He carried the heavy one himself and went ahead to break a trail.

Connie and Jane hadn’t realized before how difficult it was to walk in deep snow. Their galoshes cracked through the crusty surface and down they sank almost to their knees. Soon they were puffing and gasping and wondering how they could keep up.

“It isn’t much farther,” said Grandfather Gordon.

“We’ll climb through the rail fence here and take a short cut.”

The night had darkened so that the two Brownies scarcely could see a foot ahead of them. They were glad Grandfather Gordon seemed so sure of the way.

“Over you go!” he laughed, helping first Connie and then Jane across the top rail of the fence. “Now follow me.”

He set off, walking rather rapidly through the big drifts.

Hard pressed to keep up, the girls lowered their heads and plowed doggedly on.

Suddenly, in the darkness ahead, Grandfather Gordon stopped short. A shadowy figure had appeared from behind one of the snow-covered evergreens.

“Stop!” commanded a gruff voice. “Who is trespassing on my land?”

CHAPTER 7
Santa Claus Jeffert

CONNIE and Jane were very frightened. Huddling behind Grandfather Gordon, they didn’t say a word.

“Speak up, or I’ll put a bullet through you!” commanded the gruff voice again.

“Is that you, John Jeffert?” called Grandfather Gordon, recovering his power of speech. “Don’t shoot!”

For an instant, Connie and Jane were blinded as a flashbeam played directly in their eyes. Then it was turned off, and a tall, heavy-set man with snow-white beard, stepped out in front of them.

“Henry Gordon!” he exclaimed. “I couldn’t see who it was. Hope I didn’t give you a bad scare.”

“Well, you did,” admitted Grandfather Gordon. “Not to mention these youngsters I have in tow.”

“I sure am sorry,” Mr. Jeffert apologized again. “In the dark, I couldn’t tell who was coming through the woods.”

“So you thought you’d shoot on general principles?” Grandfather Gordon was a trifle annoyed to think that the girls might have been injured through Mr. Jeffert’s carelessness.

The other man had put aside his shotgun. “I wouldn’t have fired,” he said. “That was only bluff.”

“Then why are you carrying a gun?”

“It’s like this,” explained Mr. Jeffert. “Lately, a number of my best evergreens have been stolen—cut down at night. The same thing happened last year, and the year before that.”

“You never reported it to the sheriff?” asked Grandfather Gordon, for this was the first he had heard of the matter.

“No, because I have no idea who is taking the trees. Not many have been stolen, but enough so I lose most of my profit. I’m tired of it.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same,” admitted Grandfather Gordon.

“This year, I’m keeping watch,” Mr. Jeffert continued. “Always before, my trees have been chopped down just before Christmas. If I can catch the thief, I’ll turn him over to the sheriff.”

The man moved nearer, peering curiously at Jane and Connie. Now that they no longer were afraid of him, he looked quite friendly and nice. He was inclined to be fat and wore an odd red woolen cap. The long, white whiskers fell nearly to his middle.

“Why, you look like Santa Claus!” gasped Connie.

“I may look like the kindly old fellow, but I haven’t his benevolent disposition,” he chuckled. “At any rate, I don’t propose to give away any more of my evergreens to sneak thieves!”

Mr. Jeffert thanked Grandfather Gordon for bringing the groceries. It was unnecessary for the Brownies to help carry the sacks on to the house.

“I’ll take ’em when I go,” Mr. Jeffert said. “Right now I want to remain here and keep watch.”

He walked with Grandfather Gordon and the two girls to the rail fence.

“Come and see me again,” he called as they bade him good-bye and waded off down the snowy lane.

Safely back in the bobsled with the other Brownies, Connie and Jane related their adventure with Santa Claus Jeffert.

“He’s really quite nice and he does look like Santa Claus!” Connie declared. “I should like to meet him again.”

The frosty air had made everyone hungry. Thinking of the warm meal awaiting them, the Brownies were glad when the team presently turned in at the Gordon farm.

Against a back-drop of tall trees, they beheld the twinkling lights of the big white shingle house.

Mrs. Gordon, in blue-checked apron, came running to the door. She was a tiny woman for sixty-eight years, with snow-white hair.

One by one, she gave the Brownies and Veve a welcoming hug.

“You must be starved after that long train ride,” she declared, showing the girls where to hang their coats. “As soon as you’re washed up, we’ll have supper.”

From the kitchen came the most tantalizing odors of baked chicken, pumpkin pie and hot chocolate.

Mrs. Gordon bustled about, showing the girls to their rooms and making certain that they had towels and soap.

Connie, Veve, Sunny and Eileen shared one room with two beds. In the one adjoining, Rosemary and Jane were to sleep.

Neither of the rooms had running water, only a pitcher and a bowl. However, the water had been heated in the kitchen, so the girls were able to scrub themselves thoroughly.

In a twinkling they were downstairs again, exploring the living room and the big kitchen where Fluff, the cat, had curled up by the wood stove.

A fragrant pine knot blazed on the hearth of the dining room fireplace. It made the room very cozy and friendly.

When all the Brownies were downstairs, Grandmother Gordon called them to the dining room table. She had decorated it prettily with pink chrysanthemums, but the girls saw only the food.

A huge blue platter was piled high with crusty brown chicken. Beside it was a dish of cranberry sauce and another of whipped potatoes with a deep lake of melted butter.

For vegetables, the Brownies had their choice of carrots, spinach or string beans. Dessert was the best of all-pumpkin pie with whipped cream. However, by that time, the girls were so filled, they could not eat it all.

When finally the meal was ended, they said good night to Grandfather and Grandmother Gordon and stumbled off to their beds.

Next morning, Connie was the first Brownie to dress and come down to the warm kitchen. She asked Mrs. Gordon if she might help.

“Yes, dear, you may carry in the plates,” Mrs. Gordon smiled. “Breakfast soon will be ready.”

Eileen and Jane arrived next, and they helped put on the water glasses and arrange the chairs. There were only six of the regular straight-back ones, but two of the Brownies used the piano bench. Miss Gordon brought in a kitchen chair for herself.

The Brownies hadn’t dreamed they could be so hungry. Mrs. Gordon had fried tiny sausages and made a giant stack of wheatcakes.

Connie ate three of the cakes, and after that lost count. She never had tasted such wonderful food.

When breakfast was over, Jane and Sunny elected to help with the dishes. Connie, Veve and Eileen volunteered to make all the beds. Rosemary cleared the table, and afterwards gave Fluff her saucer of milk.

“All work and no play will make Brownies very bored people,” Grandmother Gordon declared. “I suggest you take advantage of the snow while it lasts.”

“Let’s go skiing,” cried Connie, who wished to try out her birthday present.

“And coasting,” added Jane. “But what will we use for sleds?”

“You’ll find several in the barn,” suggested Miss Gordon. “While they’re not new, I imagine they’ll serve.”

Eagerly the Brownies donned mittens, snowsuits and galoshes. A path had been shoveled from the house to the barn.

“Where will we coast?” Connie asked.

Miss Gordon, who looked very young in her black and scarlet ski suit, pointed to Hammer Hill.

“A trail has been broken by the other children,” she said. “So the coasting should be good despite the heavy snow.”

“Do other children live near here?” Sunny asked in surprise.

“Oh, yes, indeed. The Stones are our nearest neighbors. I believe the family has three or four children. We may meet them on the hill.”

In the barn, the Brownies found three small sleds, the big bobsled Mr. Gordon had made, and Skip.

Skip was a large, friendly shepherd dog, who barked when the Brownies called him by name. He sat up and begged to be taken along to the hill.

“May we?” Connie asked Miss Gordon.

“Yes, Skip loves the snow,” the Brownie leader consented.

The horses, Ginger and Maude, were crunching corn in their stalls. They barely lifted their heads as the Brownies dragged out the sleds.

At the hill, the girls found at least a dozen other children their own age. The Brownies took turns using the small sleds, and riding the big bob which Miss Gordon steered.

Once at the bottom of the hill, the sled overturned, and everyone was dumped into the snow. The Brownies howled with laughter and did not mind in the least.

After a while, Connie, who had brought along her skis, tried to slide down hill on them. Before she had gone six feet she fell. Both of the skis flew off.

“These skis aren’t much good,” she said in a discouraged voice. She hurled them away.

“Why, Connie,” said Miss Gordon, laughing at her. “Have you forgotten the Brownie verse?”

“What verse?” asked Connie, digging snow from her collar.

“‘Now, little Brownie,

Strap on your skis;

Crouch low, little girl,

And bend your knees,’”

“You mean, I’m supposed to bend my knees?”

“That’s the general idea, Connie, if you hope to stay on your feet.”

“I guess I’ll try it again.” Ashamed that she had given up so easily, Connie recovered the skis and strapped them on once more.

Following Miss Gordon’s instructions, she bent her knees and was able to slide far down the slope before they again sailed out from under her.

This time, however, she only laughed as she picked herself up. She tried twice more to ski down the hill and finally made it without falling. Because the other girls were eager to try their luck, she then turned the runners over to Jane.

Connie noticed that several new children had arrived at the hill. There were two girls only a little younger than herself, and a small boy. The three newcomers were not as warmly dressed as the Brownies and shivered in the wind. They were using large dishpans instead of sleds for coasting.

“How funny!” she exclaimed.

The other Brownies began to take notice too, for it really was amusing to see the children try to slide down hill in dishpans. Sometimes they turned around and the pans ended up in a snowbank.

“Why don’t you get a sled?” Jane called to the youngsters.

“Sh!” warned Miss Gordon. “Those are the Stone children, Bennie, Barbara and Betty.”

“The three B’s!” chuckled Jane, who could not guess why the Brownie leader was signaling her to remain quiet.

“The Stone family is very poor,” Miss Gordon explained in an undertone. “Don’t make fun of their dishpans. Their parents can’t afford to buy them sleds.”

“Oh!” murmured Jane, very much ashamed that she had spoken so hastily. “I’m sorry!”

Connie had been watching the Stone children and could see that they were very envious of the Brownie troop’s sleds and her shiny new skis. She couldn’t blame them a bit for feeling that way.

An idea came to her.

“Oh, Miss Gordon,” she said earnestly, “can’t we heeley, eeley leedy pie?”

Now the Stone children were climbing the hill with their dishpans. Connie had used the Brownie secret language so that the youngsters, even if they heard, would not know they were being discussed.

All the Brownies understood that Connie really had said: “Can’t we help?” The game was one the troop members frequently played. Each nonsensical word made use of each letter of the word that actually was meant.

Of course, Veve, not being a Brownie, was as deeply mystified as the Stone children. She thought Connie was talking a foreign language.

“Your idea is an excellent one, Connie,” approved the Brownie leader. “Come along, all of you, and we’ll meet the Stone children.”

Bennie, Barbara and Betty were rather shy when Miss Gordon introduced so many girls at one time. They could think of nothing to say.

“Won’t you try my skis?” Connie politely invited Barbara. “I think I’ll rest for a while.”

“Oh, Jimminy Crickets!” Barbara’s large dark eyes kindled with pleasure. “I’ve always wanted to try out a pair!”

The other Brownies took their cue from Connie. Sunny gave the sled she had been using to Betty, while Eileen and Rosemary took turns pulling six-year-old Benny.

Now the girls could not fail to notice that the little fellow’s mittens were nearly worn out, though they had been mended many times. Barbara, the elder of the three Stones, wore a misfitting coat made from a garment of her father’s. Betty had on a threadbare snowsuit much too small for her.

“I wish I’d get a new sled for Christmas,” remarked Betty wistfully. “But I won’t. Pop said that this year times are harder than ever, and we can’t expect very much.”

“Take another slide on mine,” urged Sunny.

For half an hour the Brownies and the Stone children had a great deal of fun on the hill. Then everyone became acutely aware of the cold. Fingers began to tingle and toes to ache.

The Stone children said good-bye to their new friends and, with their dishpans, started home.

“I’m freezing too!” announced Eileen, stamping her feet.

“So am I,” declared Rosemary, slapping her mittens together.

“It soon will be lunch time,” declared Miss Gordon, squinting up at the sun which had climbed high overhead. “All those in favor of a nice warm fire, vote ‘aye.’”

“Aye!” shouted all of the Brownies.

Dragging the sleds, they took a short cut through a field and across a tiny lake to the Gordon farm.

“Did you hear what Betty said to me about not expecting a sled for Christmas?” Sunny remarked as they turned in at the lane.

“I did,” replied Connie. “And I think it’s a shame!”

“The Stone children never have had many toys,” informed Miss Gordon. “Their father is hard pressed to buy food and clothing for the family.”

“I wish we could help,” said Connie slowly. She was silent a moment as she reflected that her mother had given her two dollars to spend as she wished during the visit at Snow Valley. “How much does a sled cost?” she asked.

“That depends upon the type,” Miss Gordon answered. “A fairly good one can be bought for four dollars.”

“I’ll give my two dollars spending money,” offered Connie, suddenly making up her mind. “But that won’t be enough.”

“I have a dollar I’ll contribute,” volunteered Sunny. “I want the Stone children to have a sled for Christmas!”

“So do I,” chimed in Eileen. “But I can only give fifty cents.”

All of the Brownies voted to make a donation, and with a little money Miss Gordon added to the fund, it was more than enough to buy a good sled.

Of the entire group, only Veve could not offer to give anything. She had not brought any spending money along.

“Miss Gordon, will you buy the sled?” Connie asked the teacher.

“I’ll be glad to shop for it.” Miss Gordon noticed Veve’s downcast face and added: “That is, if Veve will help me make the selection. Will you, Veve?”

“Oh, I’d love to, Miss Gordon!” Veve perked up, thinking that the troop leader needed her help.

Reaching the Gordon farm, the girls swept off their snowsuits and left their galoshes on the porch. Then they stomped in to toast themselves by the kitchen stove and the fireplace where a big log crackled.

“Lunch will be ready directly,” announced Mrs. Gordon, bustling to and fro. “Hot vegetable soup and all the hamburgers you can eat!”

“Miss Gordon, tell Grandma about our wonderful plan!” Jane urged the teacher.

“To be sure. I’m very proud of my Brownies for wishing to help others.”

Mrs. Gordon began dishing soup from the big blue tureen. “So the Brownies have found themselves a project?” she inquired. “What is it, may I ask?”

“We’ve decided to give the Stone children a Christmas present,” declared Connie, before Miss Gordon could answer. “We voted to use our spending money to buy them a new sled.”

Now Grandmother Gordon truly was surprised. The soup ladle clattered from her hand against the rim of the tureen.

She gazed quickly at Miss Gordon, almost as if she were displeased.

“The Stone children?” she repeated. “But are you certain—that is—”

She did not finish what she had started to say. Instead, with a worried shake of her head, she went on dipping up the hot soup.

CHAPTER 8
Three Little Stones

“LUNCH is served,” announced Grandmother Gordon quickly.

As she shooed the Brownies to their places at the long table, she was hopeful that they would forget her unfinished remark about the Stone children.

However, everyone wondered what she had intended to say.

Before anyone could ask, Grandfather Gordon came in and began questioning the Brownies about the fun they had had on Hammer Hill.

“The skating is good on the lake too,” he told them. “Better try out those skates soon, because if a heavy snow should come along, the skating might be ruined.”

“Will it snow again, do you think?” Sunny asked anxiously, peering out at the deep drifts.

“Can’t tell. It might,” replied Grandfather Gordon. “Haven’t seen the weather prediction, but my bones tell me there’s more snow in the air.”

The coasting expedition had made the Brownies as hungry as polar bears. After the soup had warmed them, they devoted themselves to the huge platter of hamburgers. But no matter how many they ate, Grandmother Gordon always brought in more from the kitchen.

“Let’s tell Grandfather Gordon about our plan to help the Stones!” suggested Eileen.

Connie shot her a warning glance, but she did not understand its meaning. Instead, she went on and told again of the plan to buy a Christmas sled for the three children.

“Well, well, that is a kindly thought,” commented Mr. Gordon.

However, as he spoke, he glanced at his wife. Grandmother Gordon’s thin lips were drawn into a tight line. She couldn’t hide the fact that she didn’t approve of the plan at all.

“Don’t you like the idea of the Brownies using their spending money to help others?” Miss Gordon asked her.

“Why, yes, of course. I heartily approve of charity if the object is worthy.”

“And you believe that the Stone children are deserving?” Miss Gordon asked, deliberately pinning her down.

Grandmother Gordon hastily began to gather up the dishes. She would have liked to avoid answering by escaping to the kitchen.

Miss Gordon smiled and took the dishes from her hands.

“Must I answer?” Grandmother Gordon asked uncomfortably.

“Indeed, you must, for you’ve raised a question in our minds.”

“Well,” said Grandmother Gordon facing the Brownies and choosing her words carefully, “I honestly must say, I hardly know the Stone children. Never once have they been in my home. For all I know, they are deserving enough.”

“And yet for some undisclosed reason, you don’t entirely approve of the Brownie plan. Come, out with it! Don’t try to hoodwink us!”

From the far end of the table, Grandfather Gordon chuckled at his wife’s discomfiture.

“You may as well fess up,” he teased her. “Tell ’em the truth about why you don’t like the Stone family.”

“Oh, dear!” Grandmother Gordon sank back in her chair. She did not enjoy being cornered. “I suppose I must, or I’ll never hear the last of it!”

“Tell the girls about the necklace,” urged Grandfather Gordon.

“Necklace?” Sunny repeated in astonishment. She could not imagine what a necklace might have to do with the Stone children.

“It wasn’t a necklace, but a gold locket,” corrected Grandmother Gordon. She sighed and added: “My dislike of the Stones simmers down to this—I’m not convinced they’re honest.”

“The children steal?” gasped Connie.

“Oh, no!” hastily corrected Grandmother Gordon. “I’ll start at the beginning—then you’ll understand. Three years ago, Mrs. Stone worked for me at threshing time. She helped out in the kitchen and with the housework for nearly a month.”

“Mrs. Stone works by the day,” explained Miss Gordon. “Her husband has a job in the village, but is ill much of the time.”

“I always liked Mrs. Stone, and I’ll give her credit for being a good worker,” Grandmother Gordon continued. “The poor woman probably was tempted. Otherwise, I’m sure she wouldn’t have taken anything.”

“You say she stole a gold locket?” asked Connie.

“It was my wedding locket which I set great store by. I foolishly showed it to Mrs. Stone and she greatly admired it. After that, I never could find it, though I scoured the house high and low.”

“You’re certain Mrs. Stone took the locket?” inquired Miss Gordon, deeply troubled.

“I can’t be certain except in my own mind.”

“You didn’t accuse her?”

“No, but I never asked her to work for me again.”

Grandfather Gordon, who had listened to his wife’s story, now said with a chuckle:

“Suppose I tell you my version of what happened?”

“Yes, do!” urged the Brownies.

“In my opinion, the locket never was stolen. My wife just misplaced it.”